


How Long is Forever

by MadameCristal



Series: Adventures in Wonderland [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alice in Wonderland References, Future Fic, Heavy Angst, Hunter Stiles Stilinski, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21736702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameCristal/pseuds/MadameCristal
Summary: Alice “How long is forever?”White Rabbit: “Sometimes, just one second.”aka. the tragic end to Stiles Stilinski's maybe-sometimes tragic life.
Relationships: Chris Argent/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Adventures in Wonderland [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566655
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	How Long is Forever

**Author's Note:**

> This is the continuation to my little sad universe with Hunter!Stiles and Chris. It's like hella sad. I'm really sorry. *runs and hides*
> 
> Un'bet'd so all mistakes are on me!

Stiles was dying. And not in an abstract “everyone is dying slowly” kind of way. This was the end. Perhaps not exactly how he had pictured it – not that he pictured it often anymore. In his darkest days, those first years when he had been alone, he pictured it before every mission. How that mission could be his last and how it would happen. It had been an attempt to feel something, a test of sorts. Not that it had ever worked. His pictured death had not inspired a sudden feeling of remorse or regret, had not inspired him to return home to make amends. He had just laced up his boots and gone to work. And then he had come back because he had never died, even when he truly would not have cared.

Now, when he really did care, now he was dying. Perhaps it was karma. Or perhaps it was his wish from that fateful day Allison died finally coming true, albeit 2 decades late. But in this moment, that didn’t much matter to Stiles. All he could think about was the man that was kneeling over him, hand pressed to his wound.

“Hey, Stiles, it’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna get you patched up,” Chris reassures gruffly. Stiles raises an eyebrow and Chris turns away. He doesn’t say anything more as his lifts the younger man and puts him in the back of the SUV. With the hydra they were hunting decapitated and burning the distance, Chris slams the gas pedal and heads back to the house.

No more than 10 minutes later, Stiles is limping into the house, leaning heavily on the older man. Inside, he collapses onto the leather couch by the fire, the ocean waves crashing outside the window.

“So, end of the line here… should we use our words here or did you have something else in mind requiring less clothing?” Stiles quips, a grimace of pain on his face even as he jokes. Chris sits down on the couch next to him and lifts his shirt to look at the bite.

“The venom is spreading quicker than I expected. I’m going to have to inject the anti-venom straight into your blood stream,” Chris says as he gets up to get a syringe to administer the supposed anti-dote. Stiles picks up the bottle to examine it. He’s fairly confident that this was not going to work, but he has to let Chris try. After all, what were the odds that regular generic snake anti-venom was going to cure a hydra bite? He was willing to bet they were very low. He smiles as Chris returns, syringe and tequila in hand. Chris injects the syringe of anti-venom into his stomach and then holds out the tequila.

“Well?” Stiles asks as he takes a large swig. He hands the bottle back to Chris, who also takes a drink.

“Now we wait. And hope,” Chris replies and then looks off at the ocean. Stiles sighs.

“Now we talk then. Just in case,” Stiles sighs again. Chris would rather cling to that fragile hope. And normally Stiles would be glad to do just that. After all, Stiles knew how many years it had taken to give Chris his hope back after Allison. And Stiles really didn’t want that hope to die with him. 

“You sure you wouldn’t rather just get naked?” Chris asks. “I thought I heard that was an option…” he trails off, lightly kissing Stile’s jawbone. Stiles turns his face and kisses him on the mouth and then pulls back.

“Let’s table that option for after. But just in case, I want to make sure to say some things. Hard things that we never say. I’ll talk and you listen. And then if you want to say something, okay. And if you don’t, we can get naked,” he pauses here and waits for Chris to acknowledge that he isn’t going anywhere. Chris nods, and stays pressed close to Stiles. He takes a depth breath and then looks into Chris’s eyes.

“A long time ago, I was broken. I felt responsible for Allison’s death and then Scott’s death. I was emotionless for a very long time. I thought I would be that way forever. Then you came along, and things changed. Not a first; it took years honestly. But I started to feel things again. I was cold and sad and angry, but they were _feelings_. So where you went, I followed. And sometimes you couldn’t lead, so I did. Because as long as we were together, we could get through anything. Somewhere, in those years, two broken men became whole together. Which is why now I’m sitting here, maybe dying, in the house that we own because you needed me, and I needed you. I know we never say it. Never. Because that would mean we’d have something to lose. But _fuck that_. I feel like I’m losing someone I love, even if I never admitted to loving you. I am here, making a goddamn deathbed declaration, because I love you. Because I’m no longer the sad hopeless kid that ran away from home. I am content with the man I have become. You are the reason for that. So thank you, for helping fit my broken pieces with yours till we were whole. Thank you for letting me follow when I was lost and letting me lead when I was steady. Thank you for buying this fucking beach bungalow that I insisted we didn’t need and letting Roscoe have the only garage parking spot. Regardless of what happens next, thank you,” Stiles proclaims, voice full of emotion and gusto. He may have waited too long to say it, but he’s glad he said it before the end. He couldn’t bear to leave Chris without telling him how much he means to him. And for a moment, he sits silently, waiting to see what Chris will do or say. It is one of the longest moments of his life.

“I love you too. I hate that now is the time you’re making me say it, because I am afraid that I’m about to lose you. I’m not sure that I can survive that. But you deserve to hear it, to know without a doubt that I love you. I’m alive because of you, Stiles. I would have given up years ago without you by my side,” Chris says, his voice thick as the tears continue to fall. Stiles smiles, feels himself fading a bit. The anti-venom isn’t working. But he doesn’t want to say that just now. 

“Don’t give up. Even if you lose me, don’t give up. Live. Hunt monsters or bungy-jump or sell coconuts on that beach you liked in Thailand. Just live. Promise me, okay?” Stiles demands, needing to know that Chris will go on even when he is gone.

“I promise. Okay? I promise,” Chris replies with a firm nod. Stiles leans up gingerly and kisses the tears on Chris’s cheeks. 

“So about that naked thing? I mean I’m all for it, but I might not quite have the energy at this time,” he wiggles his eyebrows at Chris, eliciting a rare smile from the man. Chris maneuvers them on the couch so that Stiles is resting in the crook of his arm and they can both see the ocean out the big bay window. 

“Let’s just lay here then. You know you love to cuddle,” Chris sighs and pulls Stiles just a little tighter. And it’s true. Stiles does love to cuddle, especially when the nights are long. It’s also how Stiles knows that Chris is worried, because there’s no teasing or low grumbling about cuddling like teenagers. _I’m an old man dammit_. Stiles can practically hear it in his head. He closes his eyes and leans into Chris.

“Tell me a story,” he demands softly. He feels Chris take a deep breath but doesn’t hear a refusal. Chris kisses his forehead gently. He voice is also gentle and calm as he recites:

_“All in the golden afternoon  
Full leisurely we glide;  
For both our oars, with little skill,  
By little arms are plied,  
While little hands make vain pretense  
Our wanderings to guide.” _

Stiles drifts as Chris speaks, not sure if he’s really reciting everything from the story or if he’s paraphrasing the parts he remembers vividly. It doesn’t really matter – because the gist of the story is the same. It has the same impact that it did when his mother read it all those years ago. He remembers being so small and being enamored with the tale, for surely his life would never be so full of adventure as Alice and her friends in Wonderland. And while it wasn’t quite the same type of adventure – there were certainly no tea parties in his life – he has seen plenty of adventure. Enough to last any man a lifetime. 

“How long is forever?” he asks aloud, just as he had to his mother all those years ago. He hears Chris’s breath hitch, and Stiles opens his eyes to look at the man he loves. 

“Sometimes, just one second,” Chris responds softly. Stiles smiles at him and gives a little nod.

“Mhmm. Always liked that part,” he rasps and closes his eyes again, smile still on his face. And it is the very last time for Stiles. The very last time that Chris sees the mischief and content and curiosity and sadness in his favorite eyes. He stays there for a long time, holding the younger man and crying openly, for there is nobody left to see. 

An indeterminable amount of time later, Chris rises and carries Stiles’ body out to the beach. He sets him down as he builds a pyre fit for a king. 

Later, much later, days or weeks after Chris is completely alone, no sense of what comes next, he finds himself rummaging through Stiles’ trunk – where he had carefully stored his treasured belongs from long ago in Beacon Hills. He finds what he’s searching for at the bottom, takes the small book out and looks at it with a watery smile. He gets up and takes it to the office, writes a quick note, packs the note and book in a large insulated manila envelope, and addresses the envelope. Before he seals it, he grabs the photo off his desk, slides it out of its frame, and adds to the envelope. With a sense of finality, he adds a few stamps to it – making sure it will one day arrive at its destination.

As he’s leaving his house for the last time, SUV packed with his most prized possessions, he takes a chance to lock the door and push down the For-Sale sign. Before he gets into his car, he puts the envelope into the mailbox. And then he is gone – down the road with ocean on one side. He rolls the windows down, letting the ocean air in. He doesn’t know where he will go or what he will do. But he hears a quiet voice in his head asking _“How long is forever?”_. He stares straight ahead at the winding ocean road and thinks _forever is however long till I’m with you again_.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments bring sunshine to my soul!
> 
> Come play with me on [tumblr](http://madamecristal.tumblr.com/)! ♥


End file.
